


touch me there

by raffinit



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: F/F, Massage, Praise Kink, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 22:27:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17651048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raffinit/pseuds/raffinit
Summary: Jaina thinks she hasn't spent enough time with her wife.





	touch me there

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO TRES (SLACKERGAMI), YOU PRECIOUS ANGEL CHILD
> 
> PLEASE ACCEPT THIS GIFT OF GRATUITOUS LESBIAN ACTIVITY

She should have known that Jaina was up to something when she saw that look on her wife’s face. It wasn’t often that she tempted the Lord Admiral’s temper. Not lately, at least; once the tenuous calm across the land had settled into something comfortable and enduring. Azeroth would see peace once more.

Unfortunately for Sylvanas, there was no rest for the wicked. Or formerly wicked. Or morally grey.

Whichever one of those that she was anymore.

Peace across the land entailed an insufferable amount of monotonous routine. Sylvanas had been dead too long to remember the torture of budget talks and council meetings about the dangers of improper pedestrian signs along main trade routes. It was a slow and arduous reintroduction into the realm of bureaucratic calamity.

It was bad enough that Sylvanas could hardly keep track of the mountainous heap of paperwork on her desk — Tides help her if she couldn’t figure out what she had done to upset her wife so.

Jaina came to her in the gloom of one late evening. Sylvanas caught the tight furrow of her brow and the sharp heat of her eyes in the throw of firelight from the hearth. Sighing, she lowered the report in her hand to lean back wearily in her seat.

“I understand you’re upset about my missing dinner again —”

The report was snatched from her hands in a violent move, and Sylvanas startled mildly at the vitriol with which Jaina crumpled it in her fist. She watched as it went flying into the hearth, the parchment setting ablaze almost instantaneously.

“Jaina —”

Jaina shook her head, reaching down to tug Sylvanas impatiently to her feet. Sylvanas stumbled slightly over her own feet, carefully avoiding the edges of Jaina’s skirts to prevent from tripping them both. She was strong-armed backwards to the bed, where Jaina’s firm hand shoved her down to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Strip. Lay down.”

Sylvanas’ brows arched high on her forehead. “Darling, I understand that I’ve been busy, but —”

An exasperated sigh silenced her as Jaina crowded into her space, the anger in her bright blue eyes melting away into concern. Her hands came up to cup Sylvanas’ cheeks, and she allowed it, reaching up to lay her hand over Jaina’s. “When was the last time you ate?” Jaina asked, brushing her thumb over cool cheeks. “Slept? I can’t remember the last time you were in bed when I woke up.”

“Forgive me,” Sylvanas sighed, guiding Jaina’s hand to her lips and pressing a kiss into her palm. “I’ve been so consumed by meetings and reports and new amendments to the peace treaty —” She cut herself off with another sigh, pressing another kiss along Jaina’s wrist, breathing in the scent of her wife’s perfume lingering still.

Jaina sighed as well, eyes soft as she reached out with her other hand and caressed Sylvanas’ hair. She stroked the pale blonde strands back and rubbed her fingertips against the base of her ear, pressing her fingers just so along the underside of it.

Sylvanas’ eyes slid shut and her ears gave a little shiver of frisson. “Tides, but I have missed your touch.”

“And I’ve missed yours,” Jaina murmured, folding down to perch herself in Sylvanas’ lap and tilting her head down to meet her lips in a kiss. It was slow and soft, full of languid sweeps of their tongue and the wet sound of lips meeting and parting. The hand on her ear continued kneading, and Sylvanas smothered a moan into her wife’s mouth when she felt the other hand join its twin.

“Jaina —” she began, but Jaina pulled away with a shake of her head. Her ears swivelled and flattened at the loss of when Jaina slid her hands down over Sylvanas’ shoulders, reaching to unbutton the high collar of her doublet and unclasp the buckle of her cape.

Parting her collar with a slide of her hand, Jaina climbed off her lap with a graceful sweep. “Lie down,” she said again, soft and breathless. “You look sore.”

Peering up at her wife, Sylvanas cocked her head to the side with a coy, if tired smile curling the edges of her lips. “Are you planning on putting me through my paces, wife? I’m afraid I might not perform so vigorously tonight —”

“I’ll have _my_ way with you tonight,” Jaina said, leaning down to press another sweet kiss to her lips. And then she gave Sylvanas’ collar an impatient little tug. “Get undressed. Lay down for me.”

Slowly, Sylvanas shed her clothes, guided along by the gentle hands of her wife. Stripped bare, she looked up at Jaina with an expectant cock of her brow. “Will you be joining me, wife?” she asked, reaching to toy with the hem of Jaina’s bodice.

Jaina brushed her hand away, taking it in hers and pressing a kiss to the tips of them instead. “Lay back for me and I might.”

With a sulking huff, Sylvanas obliged her, pushing herself back onto the bed until she was reclining against the pillows. She watched, rapt, as Jaina began to slowly undress. Watched with eyes that began to glow and blaze like the slow coax of embers as Jaina peeled away her coat, her bodice, her skirts; each piece sliding from her body at a torturously languid pace.

The heat in Sylvanas’ belly ignited into a blaze.

Dressed down into her camisole and tights, Jaina approached the bed slowly. “Lie down.”

Sylvanas slid lower on the bed —

“On your stomach, please.”

She paused, leaning up on her elbows. “My stomach?”

Jaina reached for something on the bedside table. She pulled the stopper from the glass bottle, and Sylvanas could smell the faintest trace of lavender and peace bloom. Pouring out a generous pool into her cupped palm before setting the bottle aside, Jaina moved towards the bed.

“Stomach,” she confirmed.

Sylvanas eyed her, but complied slowly. She turned herself over and adjusted the pillows how she liked them, tucking one over her breasts and folding another down to rest her chin on. Once she was comfortably settled, she glanced over her shoulder expectantly. “Is this how you want me?” she asked, husky and sweet.

Jaina hummed her approval, placing one knee on the bed. “Right where I want you.” She shuffled in closer to Sylvanas on her knees, and when she was hovering enough over her lower half, Jaina warned, “It’s going to be a little warm, okay?”

Grunting her agreement, Sylvanas grasped the pillow under her chin and braced herself. The first dribble of oil was warmer than expected, and Sylvanas’ breath hitched as Jaina traced a path of it from the broad plane of her back down along the small of it. It pooled in the divot of her spine, and Sylvanas shuddered when Jaina began to run her hands over her skin, spreading the heated oils over her back and shoulders, fingers sliding along the length of her ribs and down the sides of her waist.

Jaina gave her waist a teasing little squeeze and Sylvanas jerked.

“Mind your fingers,” she warned, and heard the wicked little laugh from behind her.

A pair of lips pressed warmly to the back of her neck. “You won’t be saying that in a moment.”

Huffing quietly, Sylvanas allowed herself to relax onto the bed once more, savouring the warmth of her wife’s hands spreading the pleasantly-scented oil over her body. It made her skin sing; the dulled nerves beneath the surface tingling to life, and Sylvanas flexed her hands around the pillows as Jaina pressed her thumbs firmly into the dimples above her rear.

Jaina rose up on her knees with Sylvanas’ hips between them and nibbled gently on her ear. “I’m going to start from your legs, okay? You’ve been on your feet for too long.”

“Hmm. Can’t be helped; too many meetings in too many places,” Sylvanas said, sighing into the pillow as Jaina’s hands lifted from her hips. Her breath hitched again when Jaina’s hands came to rest on her ankles.

“I can help.”

Strong, warm hands slid along the taut plane of her calves, thumbs pressing in soothing, slick circles into the muscle. Sylvanas smothered a hiss; she hadn’t realised how tense the muscles in her legs had gotten. Hadn’t realised how much she’d been standing about and bustling from place-to-place.

Jaina grasped her calves and worked them fastidiously, digging her thumb into the tight bundle of muscles until they eased. She moved oil-slick hands up in large, sweeping touches, starting from the bones of her ankles, gliding upwards into her calves and squeezing along the lean plane of her thighs. Jaina’s hands slid along the inside of her knee, and Sylvanas felt her muscles twitching at the touch as she moved up along her inner thighs.

She kneaded at the muscles along the underside of Sylvanas’ ass and then glided back down.

Sylvanas hummed, eyebrow twitching in amusement when Jaina’s hands slid again from ankle-to-thigh and back down, pointedly ignoring anything above her thighs. She let out a soft, lilting laugh when Jaina did it again. “Have you lost your way back there, wife?”

“Patience,” Jaina said, giving her ass a brief pinch before continuing her massage. “I have barely started with you.”

“Such promises you make with a start like this.” Sylvanas rolled her shoulders and hummed in appreciation when Jaina found a nerve in her ankle and pressed into it firmly.

Jaina took one of her feet in hand and began kneading and pressing against the strained nerves of the sole of her foot. Growling, Sylvanas dug her fingers into the pillow and threw a reproachful look at Jaina over her shoulder.

“I don’t remember massages being so...indulgent on the masseur’s behalf.”

“Have patience, dear,” Jaina repeated serenely, taking her time to knead and soothe the other foot before running her hands in one firm sweep from her ankles and finally straddling Sylvanas’ hips. Warm hands found their place on her back. “I’m just warming you up.”

Sylvanas made a low chuff, but finally settled against the pillows with a low sound of content when Jaina’s warmed fingers began to press into the sore muscles of her shoulders. She let out another sigh and lowered her head back into the pillow, relishing the calming scent of lavender and peace bloom, of her wife’s hands touching her. The weight of Jaina against her was pleasant; grounding, and Sylvanas felt the warmth of her wife’s body bleeding even further into her skin.

Jaina worked her muscles effortlessly, honing in on knots and bundles of nerves that Sylvanas hadn’t realised had formed in the length of time since The Last War. She growled and hissed and moaned, but did not fight Jaina’s powerful grip as it worked her into a boneless, buzzing mess. Eventually, she felt Jaina’s hands press flat along her shoulder blades.

“Just relax, okay?”

Her ear twitched. “Wha —”

Jaina bore down suddenly, and Sylvanas let out a shout of surprise. It was quickly followed by a long groan of pleasure as the vertebrae along her spine popped back into alignment. She melted flat onto the bed, a soft purr rumbling in her chest as Jaina hovered over her, pressing a series of warm kisses along her neck and shoulders.

“Okay?” Her breath was warm and light, and Sylvanas shivered at it as she dropped her mouth onto the skin along the nape of her neck and sucked.

“V-very,” Sylvanas rasped, shifting her hips against the bed. A tremor had taken over her bones, a soft thrum of something vibrating through her body the more Jaina touched her. It had been a while since she’d been touched as much as this — been held and caressed without teeth and nails and ragged breaths in her ear. Most of their physical affection had been hindered by the endless meetings and delegations that called away the attention of the Lord Admiral and Warchief respectively, and the most they managed in their hectic days were kisses hello and goodbye.

Most mornings, Sylvanas had to be gone before Jaina even woke.

It hadn’t occurred to her until that moment — how much time they’d been spending apart.

Jaina slid her hands from Sylvanas’ waist up to her shoulder blades in a firm pressure, her mouth planted firmly on the back of her neck still. The scrape of teeth along the grooves at the top of her spine made Sylvanas shudder.

With her voice caught in the depths of her throat, Sylvanas murmured, “Dalah’surfal.”

Jaina shifted, and Sylvanas felt her drape herself down over her back; felt her wife’s warm cheek pressing against the plane of her shoulder. Her voice was low and soft, gentle in the fire-lit darkness. “With me?”

Sylvanas took a moment to heave a low, shuddering breath that shook through the rest of her. When she replied, it was muffled and soft against the pillow. “Yes.”

“Good.” Jaina planted one last kiss to the back of her neck, and when Sylvanas felt her push off, she lifted her head just enough to glance at Jaina sidelong over her shoulder. The burning need in her body was blazing outwards through her eyes, hot coals in a fireplace that seemed to flame even hotter when Jaina met her gaze calmly and held it.

"Touch me," Sylvanas whispered.

"Where, darling?"

She shifted her knees and pulled them in close enough to lift her hips a bare few inches off the bed. "There."

The need had been building steadily since Jaina had flung that report into the fireplace; had gone from the slow simmer of something underlying to flames that licked across every last inch of her skin. She was wet between her legs, slick and needy as the rest of her, and Sylvanas felt something almost like shame build in her chest.

Was she so weak that even just an innocent massage could make her ache?

It was gone in the next instant when Jaina’s weight shifted further down along the bed. She moved until she was kneeling between Sylvanas’ thighs, laying one hand along her arched hips as the other hand trailed up along one leg. “Here?” Jaina whispered, running her fingers up until they touched slick heat.

Sylvanas’s breath hitched sharply, and she canted her hips back against Jaina’s touch. Her fingers flexed into the pillow. “Yes.”

“Anything you want and more, my heart,” Jaina crooned.

Sylvanas buried her face into the pillow and growled with relief when Jaina’s fingers parted her folds, gliding along the gathered wetness and slicking around her clit for a moment, stroking with the softest touch until she was trembling. If she could have sweat, she would have, but in any case the oil on her skin gleamed in the firelight as she rocked her hips back impatiently.

Jaina’s hand pressed firmly on her hip, pinning them down. “Stay still. Let me take care of you.”

“Then touch me,” Sylvanas moaned again, rising higher on her knees with her body pressed flush to the bed still. “Do not torture me so.”

“So impatient,” Jaina sighed, but to Sylvanas’ ears it was indulgent and loving, and when she felt the press of two fingers against her entrance, she forgot to think about anything else.

A low Thalassian curse bubbled from her throat as she pushed back against Jaina’s fingers, humming and sighing and clawing at the pillows as Jaina hovered over her. Soft, wet kisses marked the lines of her shoulders and neck; places where teeth had scraped the barest whispers of bruises as skilled fingers twisted and curled and thrust. Her ears flicked and twitched and flattened to her skull at the things Jaina was whispering in her ear — things that shook Sylvanas more than filth and curses.

Praise. Soft and gentle; loving words of praise for how _well_ she was behaving. How proud Jaina was at the fact that she had been working so hard, that she was loved and adored for the way she listened to her wife. How much Jaina loved her, well and truly, for who she was and who she chose to be. How much Jaina loved her for allowing herself to be taken care of.

Her cheeks coloured, a rush of sensation so sharp Sylvanas was nearly giddy. She felt the wetness between her legs intensify; the frenzied pulse of her clit under Jaina’s touches and the overwhelming awareness of every touch, every kiss, every moment their bodies were pressed together. It was building in her hips, a wild thrum of heat that was crawling up along her limbs, spreading out from the place Jaina’s fingers were touching. Outwards into her chest and hands and feet, and Sylvanas felt the room start to fade away.

“J-Jaina,” she croaked, clawing at the bed and writhing. The fingers between her legs crooked hard, Jaina’s thumb pressed just so against the bud of her clit, and Sylvanas groaned. “Jaina —”

“Just let go,” Jaina whispered, her free hand sliding up beneath her undulating body and cupping a breast. She leaned forward and mouthed along the base of an ear, nipping gently. “Let me make you feel good.”

It burst from her with a sob, an encompassing _agony_ of pleasure, too much and not enough, and just right. Her body went stiff, trembling; pulled taut like the string of a drawn bow, vibrating against the expert twist and curl of her wife’s fingers. Sylvanas lifted her head and keened when she felt Jaina press a third finger inside her fluttering walls, gnashing her teeth at the fullness.

It was all too much, too much —

It crashed over her like the blow of a hammer to her chest, and Sylvanas felt her mind go blissfully blank for an instant. She collapsed onto the bed, boneless and weak, robbed of any sense of preservation as she laid there and twitched around Jaina’s fingers still buried inside her. When the buzzing in her ears had ceased and the world came bleeding back into view, Sylvanas became vaguely aware that Jaina was singing softly.

Calling her home.

“There you are,” Jaina said warmly, reaching up to stroke her hair. The hand between Sylvanas’ legs moved carefully, withdrawing with a lewd, wet sound. She wiped it on the sheets before she rolled off Sylvanas and onto her side.

As soon as she was within range, Sylvanas swept Jaina into her arms, crushing her close and kissing her. She pulled Jaina on top of her, caressing her hair, her cheeks, her neck. She kissed her wife and felt a tidal wave of emotion unfurl in her chest for the Lord Admiral of Kul Tiras. Their lips parted with a wet sound, and Sylvanas looked up at her wife with raw affection. “Thank you.”

Jaina’s eyes were soft as she leaned down for another kiss. “You never need to thank me, darling. I enjoy taking care of you.”

“You take too much pleasure in torturing me, my heart.”

“That was torture?” Jaina asked innocently, cocking an eyebrow.

Sylvanas brushed back a curl of hair behind her ear. “It is when I cannot touch you.” She slid her hands along the clothed swell of Jaina’s hip, found the space where it met her camisole and ran her fingers over the bare skin there.

“You’re touching me now,” Jaina breathed, her eyes hooded and hungry. “Does that not satisfy you, Banshee Queen?”

“I could never satisfy myself of touching you,” Sylvanas replied readily, reaching up to pull the camisole over Jaina’s head. Her eyes dropped down to the bare breasts that spilt forth, and they took on a wicked glow. She met Jaina’s gaze and grinned.

“But for now, I can make peace with returning the favour.”


End file.
